


Dreams

by calicadria



Category: Dangan Ronpa
Genre: F/M, I hate myself right now, Oops, Yikes, also warning i think there are some bad puns and boner jokes in here, i hope none of my friends know my ao3 name because, i love kyoko kirigiri so damn much, i mean they're like seventeen years old right, i tagged it underage even though its all PG-13, i think, is that a spoiler, it's really not what i intended, oh god i'm so sorry about this, so yeah i wasn't gonna go there, subtle though right, there's just sappy talking and some slight making out, this was easy for me to write because i'm so gay for kyouko, usually i just write gay stuff but somehow this happened
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-10
Updated: 2015-11-10
Packaged: 2018-04-30 22:06:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,879
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5181398
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/calicadria/pseuds/calicadria
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kirigiri is a tough girl to understand, but Naegi doesn’t know who else to turn to when he starts getting chronic nightmares following the deaths of his friends. This time, though, things end a little differently.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dreams

**Author's Note:**

> i would like to apologize for this in advance i swear i am actually the second best hsl writer statewide i won a medal for it and everything and BY DEFENDING MYSELF I'M JUST MAKING IT WORSE AREN'T I  
> never mind then, i'll greet you all personally in hell after having written this ^.^

It was a gloved hand that opened the door when the bell rang, icy purple eyes peering out through the crack where warm light spilled into the hallway. It took them a moment of glancing around to land on the shape in front of them, an inch or so beneath their line of sight. The flint-hard gaze was first surprised, then questioning, then softened considerably. Light flooded out into the hall as the chain was removed and the door opened, and he was ushered inside with a sweeping hand motion. 

Heels clicked on the floor; there was a rustle of fabric as one gloved hand flicked light hair from its owner’s face. Her lips were drawn in a flat line, pressed together in concern, the only hint of emotion on her face. There was a kettle on the table - she took up a cup and brought it over to where he sat on the edge of her bed, nervously fidgeting and worrying his lower lip between his teeth. 

“Makoto,” she said in a voice that was soft but not quiet, and her familiar voice enveloped him like a blanket. She extended the cup to him and he accepted it gratefully, holding the tea in both hands so the steam washed over his face. There was a moment of silence as she gently moved to sit beside him, one leg tucked up underneath her, the other resting on the floor. “What happened?” 

His frightened eyes were unsure where to land, darting around the room like twin hummingbirds beneath the rapid wingbeat of his eyelids. “K-Kyouko...” 

“Another one of those dreams?” she asked. He nodded, shoulders hunched, eyes wavering around the edge of his tea cup.

“Why do you seek my assistance, then?”

Makoto looked taken aback, sitting up straighter with a confused look crossing his face. “You’re my friend, Kyouko.” 

“Everyone here is your friend, Naegi-kun,” she responded curtly, though she still spoke in her soft, deliberate tone. Her voice was soothing. He sunk into it. 

“Despite my best efforts, I doubt that Togami actually considers me-” Makoto began, laughing a little in the back of his throat, but Kyouko had turned to him with darkened violet eyes, and he swallowed the rest of his words with an audible gulp. 

“You insist upon nursing notions of friendship with each one of the students here, and yet, you turn to me for help when you are at your most vulnerable.” She frowned slightly, eyes trailing sideways across the floor in an unfocused haze. “I am not a warm person, Makoto. I’m of no use to you when it comes to emotional issues such as this.”

“Do you not like me, Kirigiri-san?” His voice was meek, his neck disappearing into the hunch of his shoulders. 

She looked surprised at that. “Not...Naegi-kun, of course I like you. You’re analytical and kind and naïve, all enviable qualities. You carry with you a...youthful optimism. You are our heart and soul. You empathize more than anyone I have ever known, and I...” she sighed there, turning her head away from him. “I lost all these things long ago. I’m not the one you should turn to for help. I would never want to make you cold and bitter, but those are the only qualities I have to offer.” 

“I...Kyouko...” he paused here, thinking. This could go one of two ways. One, she could freeze up, close herself off, send him away - not a particularly comforting option. Conversely, she could break down, crumbling into dust and ashes at his feet. He wasn’t prepared for that - Kirigiri was always the strong one, the constant foundation of stone beneath his feet. It was a selfish thought, he knew, but he didn’t know where he would be without her. 

Kirigiri dipped her forehead to rest in her right hand. Makoto believed her to be thinking, silent and lost deep in concentration, but was surprised to hear the tiniest sniff from behind her gloved hand. Kyouko was crying. 

“Uh...oh, no...” his voice wavered - what to do? - she made no sound, but clear droplets clung to her lashes when he peered worriedly around her gloved hand to gaze at her face. 

Kirigiri sniffed softly one more time, then peered out at him from between her fingers, looking almost surprised to remember that he was there. She smiled the tiniest bit. “Gotcha.” 

“Wh...” Makoto shook his head, alarmed, unsure of what had just happened. “You were faking?”

“Of course,” she replied, flicking her hair over her shoulder with a single gloved hand. “You are so trusting, Makoto. This simply proves it.”

He wanted to believe this version of her story as much as she wanted him to, but the barely visible red rings around her eyes said otherwise. 

Makoto, however, said nothing. 

“You got me too, didn’t you?” she mumbled after a moment, turning her head away. 

“Yes,” he replied softly. “You don’t have to lie to me, Kyouko. I would never change my opinion of you based on something as simple as crying.”

“I wasn’t-” she began reflexively, then shook her head almost imperceptibly to correct herself. “You’re always so kind to me, Makoto. And here you came over because you needed me to be kind to you.” 

“Making you feel better makes me feel better,” he admitted, the tips of his ears burning pink. 

“Adorable.” There was a slight teasing twitch at the corner of her mouth, but her eyes had softened considerably since a moment ago. She stared at him for a long moment, then did something that surprised him. She rested her hands in her lap and began pulling at the fingers of her left glove. 

“K...Kyouko?” 

She said nothing, carefully continuing to maneuver her hand out of the fabric without hurting herself. Makoto didn’t quite understand her concern until she had removed the glove completely, shakily extending her hand to him. 

Her skin was stretched strangely, pale and lined all over with thick, ugly, white scars. Her lip trembled the tiniest bit, so little that anyone but Naegi surely wouldn’t have noticed it. He realized that for a moment he had forgotten to breathe. 

“What happened?” He almost didn’t want to know, but now that she was finally willing to open up to him more, he was going to encourage her all that he could. 

“A fire,” she said simply, smiling faintly - sadly - at the memory. “A friend. I was young and inexperienced and I was hurt because of it.” She went to slide her hand back into the glove. “You can’t trust anyone, Naegi.”

His hand shot out to catch her wrist before she could replace her glove. “That’s not true.” He waited for her to meet his eyes, her mouth falling slightly open in confusion. “I trust you, Kyouko. And you once told me that you would never take off your gloves for anyone you didn’t trust.” At this, she shuddered the tiniest bit; Naegi threaded his fingers through hers, ignoring the strange feeling of her scars on his smooth skin, and gave her hand a slight squeeze. “Practice what you preach, Kyouko.”

Kyouko looked so stunned that she couldn’t move. She tried to form words but no sound came from her mouth - there was ice traveling slowly through her veins. How could she have slipped up like that? How could she have demonstrated such a weakness? She cared about Naegi more than she was wiling to admit, but there was a reason for that. He was just a boy. An unremarkable, naïve boy. How dare her pulse flutter in veins that way? 

Her glassy eyes remained frozen in what Naegi could have sworn to be the first time she’d shown fear. He raised their interlocked hands and rotated his extended arm backwards until Kyouko had to lean forward to keep from hurting her shoulder. Naegi tried his best to sit up to her height, to meet her eyes without flinching. Her breathing stuttered a little in her mouth as he leaned forward to place a soft kiss on her cheek. 

Kyouko looked even more surprised, if possible. Her face dusted with the faintest pink, visible only due to her usual china-doll complexion. Her violet eyes rounded, following Naegi’s gaze as he tried to pull back. A gloved left hand moved up to touch the side of his face, just barely, brushing her fingers along his jaw and tucking a strand of his hair behind his ear. It was the gentlest she had ever been. Now Naegi had a chance to be afraid. 

There was a blur of movement, and what Naegi thought to be a gloved hand on his cheek, and then her breathing and scent were all around him. Her left hand moved to rest on his shoulder, her hair falling forward over her shoulders like silk, her lashes blinking out a single tear as they fluttered closed. Naegi’s eyes stretched wide, and for a moment, he forgot to breathe. 

He had never kissed anyone before. Kyouko’s lips were soft and warm - cautious, curious - against his own as she melted forward into Naegi and slid up to sit on her knees. Was this real? He wasn’t sure, but she felt awfully solid for a dream, and he couldn’t remember ever falling asleep again...unless he was still in his nightmare, and something terrible was about to tear them apart. 

Kyouko pulled back after only a moment, her eyes opening slowly, her expression blank as ever as she searched him for a response. She didn’t seem embarrassed, nor did she seem happy - she was just there, blinking those bright eyes at him, as always. Surely those eyes couldn’t be a dream. 

Naegi was still reeling from her kiss, the warmth of her breath and the softness of her gloved hand on his face. He turned his head to the side to avoid her ever-intense stare, hoping she couldn’t see him shaking. 

“Naegi?” Her voice was soft but insistent. 

His eyes were unfocused, staring down at her hand. “You should take it off,” he mused aloud, still not looking at her face out of nervousness. 

“What?” Kyouko snapped back, looking surprised and angry all at once. Naegi backpedaled quickly, indicating her hand. 

“Your other glove. I was just talking about your glove.” 

Kyouko relaxed visibly. “Pushy,” she grumbled, casting her gaze down to her hand, but there was a good-natured tug to the corner of her mouth. “You ask so much of me, Naegi.” 

He was about to apologize, but understood that she had been joking when she raised her left hand to her mouth and pulled her glove off with her teeth. Naegi realized with a jolt that she hadn’t wanted to let go of his hand to remove it. Slowly, he lifted his empty hand to press against hers, palm to palm, lining their fingers up like a reflection in a mirror. 

“Disgusting, aren’t they?” she sighed, grimacing faintly at her hands. “I’d almost forgotten. I haven’t really looked at them in so long.”

“No,” he replied, glaring firmly at her, and she pointedly kept her gaze focused on her hand where their fingers intertwined. “They’re just different. They’re...beautiful.” He wasn’t sure if he was talking about her hands anymore, but it didn’t matter now, because she was right there and she was lacing her fingers with his other hand, and he just needed to kiss her again before the shaking wore off, before either of them returned to their senses. 

Nervously, he bent and closed the distance between them again. 

Kirigiri was quiet and reserved at first, just enjoying the feeling of pressing against Naegi and his breath on her cheek. After a long moment, she finally felt herself relaxing, the tension easing from her shoulders, her back arching in a way that pressed her body against his. Naegi was so sweet, so patient, she thought - he never pushed her, simply waited as she got her bearings, took his lower lip into his mouth with a gentle bite, then again, harder, and he groaned aloud. It was so hard to keep from making any noise - any sound could scare her away though, and he wasn’t ready to break the spell just yet. 

“Naegi...” she pulled away just enough to trace a finger along his cheek and breathe out his name. “Are you okay with this? Knowing that I’m not going to open up to you right away, knowing that this can’t mean anything yet?” 

He pressed a kiss to her nose, trying to hide the fact that he had to stretch up to do so. “Of course, Kyouko. I’ll wait as long as it takes.” 

Her eyes smiled at that, something akin to surprised pleasure. Before he had the chance to say anything else, Kirigiri had gotten up on her knees and moved to sit in his lap. She kissed him several more times, on his lips and nose and neck and at the corners of his mouth, and she pressed her hands to his arms and his neck and curled her fingers into his hair, and Naegi thought he must’ve died, but he also had to think about other stuff too to distract himself from losing his senses, from completely drowning in the smell and taste and touch of all that was Kirigiri. 

Finally, with a soft exhale, Kyouko detached herself from Naegi and sat back, pressing their foreheads together so their breath mingled between them. Naegi took her hands in his and brought them up to his mouth, placing feather-light kisses on her knuckles. A rare smile graced her face; she lifted her gaze to look at him, then pulled away to stand up, wringing her hands without even seeming to realize it. 

“Thank you, Naegi...for always being so patient with me.” She paused and took a deep breath, seeming to be calming her nerves. “But it’s late. We should both be getting to sleep.” She started to indicate the door, but Naegi spoke before she could do anything else. 

“Could I stay here tonight?” 

Kirigiri’s eyes went wide with alarm. “You...want to sleep here?” 

Naegi’s face turned a shade of red that matched the zipper on his hoodie. “Um...I mean...”

She shook her head as if it didn’t matter. “You can sleep here,” she said, looking at him very seriously. “But it would only be sleeping, Naegi-kun.” 

If he could be any more embarrassed, he would be, but Naegi seemed to have reached his full capacity for humiliation. “Of course I know that,” he replied, ducking his head slightly to avoid her gaze. “I just...” 

“It’s all right.” She smiled faintly at him as if she found him endearing, then stepped into the bathroom to change. “You’re welcome to stay here. You don’t need to justify yourself.” 

Naegi stared at his lap for a moment. He could hear her taking off her shoes and jacket, but she hadn’t closed the door to the bathroom. Every cell in his body told him to peek, dammit, but he somehow managed not to stare as she shed layers of clothing. When she reappeared in the doorway, she was working the braid out of her hair with her fingers, and Naegi nearly yelped to find her wearing nothing but her underwear and her white blouse. It was just long enough to reach her thighs, serving as what Makoto imagined would have been the shortest dress in history. He trembled to see her standing there in the doorway, the soft white lines of her legs seeming to extend for miles between her ankles and the hem of her shirt. Naegi swallowed. 

“Looking awfully pale, Naegi-kun,” she teased, walking toward him at a deliberately slow pace. Never before could Naegi remember wanting to pin someone to a mattress and lick every inch of their body, but here he was. Kyouko slid into his lap and tilted his head up to look at her, running her fingers along his jawline. “Now isn’t the time,” she told him, lacing her fingers with his, though hesitantly - (Naegi suspected she still wasn’t used to not wearing her gloves) - and leaving the lightest of kisses on his lower lip. Naegi wasn’t able to bite down a tiny groan, but Kyouko was right - now wasn’t the time for this. He had to get ahold of himself. He rested a hand on her shoulder and slowly trailed it down along her spine, stopping at her lower back and pulling her closer to him. Her collar bone presented itself right in front of his face, and he found himself latching onto her neck to kiss her skin lightly. She actually laughed at that - evidently she was ticklish - but ended up cuffing him on the shoulder and rolling away. 

“Maybe next time,” she said, and Naegi nodded. She tasted like heaven and sugar and the warmth of her body was sorely missed, but a moment later, she had crawled under the covers and curled herself around him between the sheets, her arms around his waist, her right leg wrapping loosely around his. Naegi stared up at the ceiling and wondered how he had ever gotten so damn lucky. 

Maybe he did have a talent after all.


End file.
